


Deer Hunter

by ModernAntiquity



Category: Benedict Cumberbatch - Fandom
Genre: Benedict Cumberbatch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 07:14:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6185506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ModernAntiquity/pseuds/ModernAntiquity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A couple determined to rekindle their tumultuous marriage, becomes prey to a sharp shooting assailant in the vast English woods.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Deer Hunter

Quinn mindlessly adjusts the band on her left ringed finger. She made quiet revolutions around the manicured digit until there were soft smudges all around it. Her latent eyes sweep the road alongside the electric car, humming passed a faded speed limit sign. Her shoulders shifted in the down of her navy parka,

“It’s great to see that you’re minding the speed limit,” Her eyes glinted a soft smile amidst the driver; his left hand heavy, two o’clock on the small steering wheel of the rental. His left hand shining with a band that matched hers. The vehicle slows up to snail’s momentum.

“Is this any better then?” Sarcasm feverishly played in the corners of his grin. Quinn shifts in the leather seat, a sharp retort readies itself on her tongue; a quip that would sever the pleasant silence that immersed them quite often, turning this lover’s outing into a battle of shouting and guilt. Instead, Quinn swallows the shards and admires the speckle of gray in his facial hair birthed from exhaustion. 

“You’re a true bastard, Michael Emery,” She turns back to the road as he returns the notion. The road sped against her eyes again. Fascination sparked an unfamiliar warmth in her stomach as a snowflake fell from the thick white clouds above them.

“D’you know what that makes you?” Michael returns to his laid back excursion on the naked road, watching the trees above arch over them.

“I haven’t the slightest clue,” Quinn sighs in the passenger’s seat, slowly becoming uninterested anymore.

“A true bastard’s wife,” Michael quips in a laughable air. Quinn remains pensive, silent. His laugh slowly morphs into a frown, absent in her gaze.

“You’ve passed our exit,” Quinn huffs plainly.

“Shit,” Michael slams down hard on the brakes, nearly sending Quinn into the dashboard if it weren’t for the safety belt. He throttles the steering wheel out of pure frustration. Quinn’s defensive instincts begin to tighten her body once relaxed. Michael looks straight ahead to the snow falling now harder and faster than before. Quinn eyes him from her seat as the silence that once blanketed them in serenity now grasped them in a vicious chokehold. 

Quinn’s breath catches in her throat, and she slowly began to realize she hadn’t been breathing.

“Let’s just see if the GPS can get us back to where we need to—“ Quinn tries to reason with Michael, who was now frantic and silently cursing every falling flake.

“I don’t need the fucking GPS, Quinn!” Michael tears the unit off of the dashboard and throws it down to the floor, as a five year-old would in a tantrum. Quinn quickly throws her arms up and shrivels into her seat. She silently berates herself for agreeing to this trip.

“Michael,” Quinn—still in her defensive position—begins to reason with him, “You need to stay calm,” Michael is heaving small breaths, keeping his wicked eyes on the road ahead of him. “We just need to find a way back—“

“Quinn,” Michael warns sternly. Quinn stops herself in her tracks. A familiar sting rises her spine and her stomach begins to turn. Her mind quickly goes to the .45 enclosed her luggage that lie in the seats behind her. 

“Yes, Michael,” Her voice quivers as her heart beat picks up in pace as the seconds go on. Michael’s eyes never leave the road. There is now a thin layer of snow lying on the hood of the rental and the windshield wipers have started swishing their way through the violent silence.

“I am calm,” Michael closes his eyes and with a whisper the car starts. Quinn still has her back to the door on the passenger’s side. “It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“Wh-What’s fun, Michael?”

“Driving on the opposite side of the road, it’s fun,” Quinn is momentarily confused by the change of moods Michael underwent in a matter of minutes. She knew if she hadn’t replied then there would be hell to pay shortly after.

“Yeah, it’s pretty neat,” Quinn forces a smile trying to fight back tears, already brimming the lids of her dark brown eyes. 

Quinn sits in the passenger’s seat of a rental, twirling her ring around her left ringed finger; she watches the snow fall on to the wide English roads. Quinn sits in absolute silence, wishing she were elsewhere.

**Author's Note:**

> Trying something a little different with this. Wasn't intending this to have BC in it, but seeing as how I this HAS to belong to a fandom, he'll be featured as well. Also, my very first narrative in third-person so very, very anxious for feedback. Get Well Soon is being continued as we speak. This is the shortest chapter I've ever written--ever.


End file.
